


Carnival

by amuk



Series: Wanderer [9]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Family, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:37:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4272081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He remembers too much and so he can’t stop now. --Sasuke</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carnival

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Day 3 // Carnival

He was five when they went to the carnival. It was a warm summer evening, the night sky lit up by all the booths and attractions. In the crowded venue, his brother held his hand the entire time, laughing as Sasuke dragged him around.

 

“Hurry!” he demanded, turning back to face his parents. They were walking a distance behind, hands linked—a rare time his father was feeling romantic.

 

“Come on, let’s not spoil it,” Itachi said, stopping at the spinning teacup ride. “Here, I’ll go with you.”

 

“But mommy wanted to—”

 

“It’s fine, she’s having fun anyways. Besides, she can’t make it go as fast as I can.”

 

“Really?” Sasuke stared at his brother, his eyes wide. “Fast?”

 

“Super fast,” Itachi promised.

 

“Ready?” Naruto asks, and Sasuke opens his eyes, stepping out of the memory. The summer night must be making him nostalgic, he hasn’t thought about that in a long time. He’s not paying attention and that can get them killed.

 

(It’s a clear memory, a rare memory—almost everything else he remembers is a blur, a feeling, a concept.

 

He can still hear his father’s chuckle, see his mother’s smile. He can taste the cotton candy and feel the firm grip of his brother’s hands.

 

He can feel it all so vividly.)

 

Gritting his teeth, Sasuke nods. “Ready.”

 

He can’t stop now.


End file.
